


'cause you started something (can't you see)

by symphony7inAmajor



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, First Time Bottoming, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, and this is proof of that, i will further bottom adam agenda alone if i have to
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2020-03-05 06:47:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18823294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/symphony7inAmajor/pseuds/symphony7inAmajor
Summary: So.Adam’s having, like, a crisis. Kind of.(he doesn't know who else he could trust with this)





	'cause you started something (can't you see)

**Author's Note:**

> i had started something kind of similar to this, but an anon asked me for something MORE like this so i wrote it in like five hours. anon, if you're reading this... hope you like it?
> 
> but yeah, adam lowry is a bottom etc etc. you guys know.
> 
> title from "i only want to be with you" by dusty springfield

So.

Adam’s having, like, a crisis. Kind of.

When he thinks about it, it’s a pretty stupid crisis, but hey. Sometimes he freaks out over stupid shit, like that time Brandon made him dinner with tofu without telling him and he actually _liked_ it. This crisis is probably less stupid than that one was.

And speaking of Brandon. Well. That’s who’s responsible for Adam’s current state of mind.

Here’s the deal: ever since Adam realized he was gay and started hooking up with guys, he’s always, _always_ been the one on top. It seemed--not safer, maybe, but he’s a gay hockey player. It was easier to convince himself that what he did he was fine when he wasn’t the one taking it. Plus, guys always assumed that that’s what he’d want, especially on account of his size.

This is, of course, a very long winded way of saying that Adam has never been fucked, and that he’s also never thought about having sex like that, at least not outside of any of his extremely repressed jerk-off fantasies that he used to have before Brandon.

Brandon is, after all, the first actual boyfriend he’s ever had. Before Brandon, the closest thing Adam had to a boyfriend were guys he could call up in certain cities for the night. That was just. Easier.

He never wanted to risk being found out before Brandon. He never wanted to risk a lot of things before Brandon.

Which brings him back to the crisis.

He and Brandon have been together for a while. Months, actually. They’re both hot, young guys who are, like, stupid into each other. Basically, they have a lot of sex.

That’s where the crisis is from.

They don’t get to fuck properly that often during the season, mostly sticking to hands and mouths unless they get a couple days off. It’s kind of annoying to have to, like, schedule it, but that’s life, Adam figures.

Anyway.

The first time they’d had sex that was more than blowjobs or handies, Brandon had shoved him onto the bed, dropping lube and a condom into the blankets before climbing on top of him to kiss him stupid. Adam’s heart had started racing when Brandon slicked his fingers up, and that’s where it started--thinking Brandon was going to fuck him, realizing how much he wanted that.

Brandon hadn’t, obviously, had reached behind himself to open himself up before rolling the condom onto Adam’s dick and riding him, pinning his wrists to the mattress until Adam came, then jerking off onto Adam’s chest.

After, Brandon had been almost frustratingly _fine,_ getting up to get a cloth to wipe Adam’s chest clean, which was usually what Adam did.

Until Brandon, it seems. Lots of things seem to fall under that _until Brandon_ umbrella.

The main thing, at the moment, being the fact that Adam’s never wanted a guy to fuck him _until Brandon._ He’s not sure if it’s, like, the _feelings_ he has for Brandon that make him want to trust Brandon with this part of himself, or if it’s just the way that Brandon’s always taking charge so easily that it feels like it’d be _good_ to let Brandon take charge like _that,_ too.

 

He hasn’t talked to Brandon about it.

He mostly watches Brandon, trying to figure out--something, anything, that might make it easier for him to ask. Brandon would say yes, Adam’s pretty sure of that.

It’s just--their sex is good, it’s _great,_ and as certain as Adam is in his knowledge that Brandon would make him feel good, he’s scared, a little. He knows, objectively, that getting fucked won’t make him less of a man, but years of playing hockey and hearing _things_ in the locker room and on the ice doesn’t go away just like that.

So he doesn’t ask.

He watches Brandon when they fuck, the way his head drops back when Adam does something clever with his fingers, the way he fists a hand in Adam’s hair to _keep_ him somewhere, how Brandon’s favourite way to fuck is to be on top, a hand planted on Adam’s chest so he doesn't move.

Adam goes to his place one night after a game, kissing Brandon goodbye before they go their separate ways. He tells himself that he and Brandon are tired and could do with a night to, like, chill.

He knows, even on the drive to his apartment, that that’s not the whole reason.

The shower water is hot, better than the arena showers. He stands under the water until his aching muscles start to loosen, then dries off and goes to bed.

He turns the lights off, like if he can’t see what he’s doing it won’t have to be as real. It takes him a long time to make up his mind about it, but he finally reaches into his bedside table and grabs the lube.

He takes deep breaths while he slicks up his fingers, his skin feeling hot. He’s getting hard, even though he hasn’t touched himself yet. He drags his dry hand over his chest, down to his waist. He thinks about just jerking off like normal, rolling over and going to sleep, forgetting about this.

He doesn’t.

Adam spreads his legs, shivering at the vulnerable position. He grabs a spare pillow to put under his lower back, raising his hips so he can get his hand between his legs. By the time he brushes his fingers over his hole, his shudder has nothing to do with how cold the lube is.

He presses _in_ on the next pass, his breath catching in his throat as he slides the tip of his index finger inside. He has to stop to catch his breath, letting his body adjust to his finger. After a few deep breaths, he pushes his finger the rest of the way in.

He squeezes his eyes shut, his mouth dropping open in a soundless gasp. It doesn’t--it doesn’t hurt, which he figured would be the case for the first time, but it feels weird and unfamiliar and he thinks about stopping.

Then he thinks about the way Brandon sounds when Adam curls his fingers just right against his prostate, the way he’ll grasp at Adam’s shoulders, his nails biting into the skin.

Adam sets his jaw, and tilts his hips so he can add a second finger. His wrist aches a little, in this position, but he keeps going. The second finger makes him feel the stretch properly, his body unused to the intrusion, but he thrusts his fingers experimentally. The feeling makes him whine unexpectedly, and he bites his lip.

His skin feels too tight.

He doesn’t try to work in a third finger, instead crooking and thrusting his fingers until he presses against something that makes him feel _electric,_ shivers going up his spine.

Adam arches his back, trying to get his fingers deeper, rocking back on his hand desperately. He finally brings his free hand down to touch his dick, making helpless little sounds as the heat builds in his stomach.

He imagines what it would feel like if it were Brandon doing this for him, holding him down, fucking him with his fingers not just to get him off, but to open Adam up for his cock. Adam comes with a bitten-off groan.

“Huh,” he says thoughtfully. Well.

He lies there, shivering, until he can slide his fingers out. He winces at the feeling, the way he feels empty and _loose._ He’ll get up in a minute to clean up, when he thinks his legs will be working again.

In just a minute.

 

Adam still doesn’t bring it up with Brandon.

It’s silly, maybe, the way he won’t ask Brandon to fuck him but he’s basically shoving his fingers up his ass every time he has a chance to jerk off. Asking Brandon, though, would involve telling him about that, and Adam just--can’t. He’s embarrassed, then he feels ashamed that he can’t even trust his boyfriend with this part of himself, but he doesn’t know what else to do.

Still, Brandon knows him well enough that he can tell something’s off, tries to ask him about it when they’re in bed one day. Adam just slides down the bed and sucks his dick until he can’t really speak anymore.

Brandon doesn’t forget that easy, though, and he’s notorious for not giving up.

So Adam decides to give him little hints rather than telling him outright. He bends over more than usual, usually catches Brandon watching him after. He drags Brandon on top of him and wraps a leg around his waist, but Brandon just sucks him off, though he does slide his hand up Adam’s inner thigh, making Adam wish he’d go just a little bit higher.

He also stops fucking Brandon.

He still blows him, jerks him off, just makes excuses that they don’t have time, or they have to skate too soon, all bullshit. And Brandon _knows_ they’re all bullshit excuses, and Adam knows he knows.

Adam keeps noticing Brandon watching him with the corners of his mouth turned down, a crease between his eyebrows, and that makes him feel _worse._ He’s _hurting_ Brandon, all because he’s too self-conscious to ask Brandon to fuck him.

 

It all comes to a head after a few weeks.

They’re together in Brandon’s room, kissing in his bed. They have the weekend off, for the first time in what feels like _forever,_ so they’re taking their time.

Brandon sets his teeth against Adam’s throat, bites down softly.

“You gonna fuck me today?” Brandon’s voice is steady, but Adam tenses anyway. Brandon feels it, sits back with an expression of careful blankness on his face. “What’s going on with you?” He doesn’t sound angry, just confused, concerned, a little hurt.

“Sorry,” Adam says. He stares up at the ceiling so he doesn’t have to meet Brandon’s eyes. Brandon won’t have any of that, though, curling a hand around the back of Adam’s head to force him to make eye contact. He gives him a little shake.

“Tell me what’s going on,” he says, and his tone is firm in a way that makes any argument die in Adam’s throat. He looks at Brandon, helpless, feeling his strong hand on the back of his neck, the stern expression on his face, but the gentleness in his eyes, too, the way his thumb is stroking through his hair.

“I just--” Adam’s voice cracks. He’s been keeping this to himself for so long now, and it feels _strange_ to finally admit it. “I want you to fuck me.” Adam swallows hard, but he can’t look away from Brandon’s face.

“Oh, baby,” Brandon murmurs, and he lets Adam’s head rest against the pillow again, but he props himself over Adam to keep looking at him. “Has it been that this whole time?”

“It was sort of a thing,” Adam says, blushing. Brandon kisses him, slow and easy, brushing his fingers through Adam’s hair. When he breaks the kiss, he presses their foreheads together, stroking his thumbs over Adam’s cheekbones.

“Do you still want it?” he asks, and Adam shivers. He nods, but Brandon frowns. “I need you to use words, okay?” Brandon sits back on his heels between Adam’s legs, dragging his palms up and down Adam’s thighs. “So tell me: do you still want me to fuck you?”

“Yes,” Adam rasps, his mouth suddenly dry. He swallows. “Yes, I want it, please.”

“Good.” Brandon leans over him to get the lube and a condom from the nightstand. He leans down to kiss Adam again, shifting his hips until he can grind against Adam, slow and without urgency. Adam’s hands dance over his shoulders, wanting to pull him closer but also wanting to push him down to get to work between his legs.

Adam’s hips jerk when Brandon slots a thigh between his legs, letting Adam rub against him for a moment, then he pulls away.

“Have you done this before?” Brandon asks, coating his fingers with lube. Adam feels absurdly glad that he has, because he has a feeling that he would’ve been too tense for even one finger if this was the first time. Maybe Brandon would’ve had to make him relax with his mouth, and that--that’s a thought for another day.

Brandon’s still looking at him expectantly, his hand between Adam’s legs but not touching him yet.

“Yes,” Adam says. “I fingered myself thinking about you, is that what you want to hear, now would you _please_ get on with it?” Brandon looks surprised, but also, like, really turned on, so Adam tilts his hips up, waiting for Brandon to touch him.

Watching Brandon watch him makes him aware, suddenly, of how vulnerable his position is, but he doesn’t mind anymore. It’s _Brandon,_ and Brandon has never been anything but good to him in bed. Adam realizes with a jolt that he trusts Brandon completely. He yanks him down for one more kiss before Brandon slides the first finger in.

Brandon carefully moves his finger, but he seems to realize that Adam’s good for it and adds a second one before long, stroking his free hand over Adam’s hip.

Adam has bigger hands than Brandon, longer fingers, but Brandon, as usual, makes up for everything he lacks in size with a _lot_ of skill.

By the time Brandon’s got three fingers in him, Adam’s making a lot of noise and not saying very many words, mostly Brandon’s name, a few desperate _please_ s.

It’s so different from doing it to himself, not having to jerk himself off faster so that his wrist stops hurting, knowing that soon Brandon’s going to fuck him, and it’s just. A lot.

“Think you could take another?” Brandon asks, and it takes Adam a second to figure out what Brandon’s words means. He thinks about it, about Brandon pushing his pinky finger in, how that would _feel._ But he has another goal tonight.

“Think so,” he gasps. “Want, umm. Want your dick first.” Brandon twists his fingers sharply, making Adam stifle a cry. Brandon grins.

“Works for me,” Brandon says, careful when he slides his fingers out. Brandon uses his teeth and his clean hand to open the condom packet, gritting his teeth when he rolls it on and slicks up his cock.

He grips Adam’s hips, lifting him enough that he can fit his dick to Adam’s hole. It feels so _easy_ for him to press in, Adam slick and open enough that it hardly takes any effort at all. Brandon stops when his hips are flush against Adam’s ass, his chest heaving. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, then he looks straight at Adam.

His eyes are so dark, almost black, his face flushed and sweaty, hair plastered to his forehead. He’s the most beautiful thing Adam’s ever seen.

“Wow,” Brandon says, but his voice is strained. “That was corny as hell.” _Oops._ Adam must’ve said that out loud by mistake.

“True, though,” Adam says, too honest.

“Hah.” Brandon sounds breathless. Then he moves. He shifts his weight a little, making Adam whine, then he rocks his hips back and forth.

 _“Oh,”_ Adam says, taken aback by how different this feels to fingers. Brandon takes that for the encouragement that it is, pressing Adam’s legs back so he can fuck him at a better angle, hard.

It was easy for Brandon to find Adam’s prostate with his fingers, and it’s easy for him to find it with his dick. Once he finds it, he tightens his hold on Adam so he doesn’t move, and starts a steady pace against his prostate.

Adam’s head is thrown back and he’s pretty sure the high, drawn-out moans are coming from him. Then again, Brandon’s working pretty hard--haha--to turn his brains to mush, so he’s not really certain of anything except how _good_ he feels.

It’s not long before that familiar heat builds in Adam’s stomach, licking its way up his spine, and he doesn’t know if he can come like this but he certainly wants to _try._ He fists his hands in the sheets to keep himself from touching his dick, his eyes slipping shut.

Brandon’s fucking him with urgency now, chasing his own orgasm, but he lets his callous-rough hands drag over Adam’s chest, catching on his nipple, and Adam jerks and comes with a muffled cry.

That sends Brandon over the edge, his hips jerking one last time before he drops his head onto Adam’s chest with a groan.

Neither of them move for a minute.

Adam pats Brandon’s head, fingers twisting in his sweaty hair.

“Good job, champ,” he says. Brandon bites him before he pulls out, stripping off the condom and getting up on unsteady legs. He wobbles a little bit on his way to the bathroom, but he seems alright when he gets back. Alright enough to clean Adam up, at least, but not enough to do much else before he flops into bed and drags Adam close with an arm around his waist. He nuzzles the base of his skull.

“Shower later,” he says. Adam agrees, too tired to do anything more than nod sleepily. Brandon pats his hip. “Sleep now.”

As Adam drifts off, secure in Brandon’s arms, he has a hard time remembering why he’d been scared at all.

**Author's Note:**

> like... yeah.
> 
> [tumblr](https://symphony7inamajor.tumblr.com)
> 
> EDIT a friend let me know this is actually really similar to an old wilson/latta fic, which is a TOTAL coincidence (promise i don't plagiarize), [one simple request](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4849943) so you can read that one there too!!


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